


Hearts Too Big to Fill Our Beds

by butch_snufkin



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 00:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20398405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butch_snufkin/pseuds/butch_snufkin
Summary: Heaven was spotless, perfect, and completely orderly. It was the home of all angels, Where they were born, and where they lived out their days.Aziraphale never felt at home There, as much as he tried. Luckily, he has finally found himself a new home.





	Hearts Too Big to Fill Our Beds

**Author's Note:**

> basically I did Not have a good night so I wrote this to console myself sksksksks

Contrary to popular belief, angels are not beings of love. Angels are advocates for what is Right. There might have been a time long ago when angels did value love, but that time had long since passed.

All angels are used to the blinding marble of Heaven's walls. They don't flinch at the sound of shoes clicking across the floor. When superiors loom over them, they keep their backs straight, completely unintimidated. Angels do what is Right, not what is kind. 

It took a long time for Aziraphale to realize that he wasn't like the other angels. Or maybe he had always known, and simply banished the thought, for it was too horrible to bear. Most of his visits to Heaven were a bit fuzzy around the edges. Some had completely gone from his mind, leaving only a dull ache of shame that he couldn't explain.

He didn't like to think he was afraid of Heaven, and he could usually convince himself that a bit of godly fear was always healthy. After all, he had forgotten so many details of his interactions with other angels. Who's to say he wasn't overimagining? Angels are not cruel. He just needed to stop being so sensitive. 

Aziraphale leaned against a marble column and caught his breath. Heaven always made him a but weary. It was just so bright and empty and cold, nothing like his bookshop. But his heart was beating so fast. Why was that? Why couldn't he just calm down. 

The conversation he'd had with Gabriel still stuck in his mind. 

_Haven't you accomplished anything yet? Done something productive for once?___

_ _Words had stuck in his throat like sand as he tried to answer and pay no attention to Sandalphon and Uriel looming dangerously in the corner. _ _

_ _But he couldn't think of what to say. He could only think about how he'd taken a bath in holy water before coming, just to wash the smell of evil off him. He hoped it worked well enough. If he gave himself away, if he returned one day to find Crowley's apartment empty and a puddle of melted demon on the ground... Oh Lord. He might be sick. _ _

_ _He still felt quite nauseous as he twisted his gold ring around his pinky finger. Everything was so loud and so quiet and these clothes were scratchy and uncomfortable and just too much pressure on his skin. _ _

_ _He needed to leave. Right now. _ _

_ _He tore himself away from the wall and walked as fast as possible without running. He almost got out without drawing attention to himself when he rounded a corner too fast and almost knocked over Michael. _ _

_ _They narrowed their eyes in annoyance, but did not move. _ _

_ _"Aziraphale," they said coldly, sounding like some sort of android._ _

_ _Aziraphale forced and held a grin. The corners of his mouth spasmed at the uncomfortable position. "Good afternoon, Michael. How are you?" _ _

_ _Michael informed the question, and instead plucked at an invisible speck of dust on Aziraphale's lapel. The action made him feel smaller than it should have. _ _

_ _"You seem to be in a hurry." A smirk crossed their face. "Well, like Gabriel said, it's nice you're finally doing something about, uh, the _state_ of your corporation." ___ _

_ _ _ _Michael's hollow laugh echoed through the halls as they brushed past him._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Aziraphale's stomach dropped about fifty feet. Radio static filled his ears and he found himself walking again, though he didn't feel in control of his movements at all. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Time to get home. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He couldn't quiet the part of his brain that reminded him Heaven was his home. Where angels belonged. Well, only the good angels. Only the angels who did what was Right._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He held himself together all the way back to Soho. He perfected his posture and folded his hands behind him, talking quick and precise steps. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _The bell that sounded when he opened the bookshop door was achingly comforting, as was the smell of Crowley's strange cologne, which enveloped him as soon as he stepped onto the wood floor._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _"Thought you'd be gone all day," Crowley drawled as he came out from behind a bookcase, running his fingers lazily along the spines of the Wilde signed first editions._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _The demon pulled his sunglasses up and perched them on top of his head. Aziraphale could always tell what Crowley was meaning, even with the sunglasses. He just knew without having to see. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _But that look in Crowley's eyes, the softest, lovingest thing... _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _It was like coming home. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _They reached for each other and met halfway. For once, Aziraphale was grateful for being the shorter of the pair. He pressed his face into Crowley's shoulder, taking deep breaths and letting out a few hiccuping sobs. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Crowley peppered soft kisses on the side of Aziraphale's head, occasionally flicking his serpent tongue out and eliciting a small giggle from his angel._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _"Oh, you're going to smell all evil," Crowley tutted with fake concern. "And after you just got clean, too." _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Aziraphale hummed softly. "Better than smelling like a moldy old hospital." Which was actually exactly what Heaven smelled like. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Crowley laughed and smacked a kiss against Aziraphale's lips. "You've gotten absolutely devious, angel. It's my remarkable influence, of course." _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Aziraphale didn't take the time to think up a witty rebuttal, so all he said was the truth: "I missed you very much, my dear." _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Crowley's face softened, and Aziraphale could have sworn his eyes dilated a little. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Their foreheads knocked together gently, and a few more kisses were exchanged. Slowly. They finally had time. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _"Bed, I think?" Crowley whispered. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _"Sounds lovely," Aziraphale replied, coming home once again._ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> title from turn to stone by ingrid michaelson,, literally such an ineffable husbands song pls go listen


End file.
